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Killian: I texted you, Daisy. Text me back, that’s how this relationship thing goes.
I fought a smile and lost.
Me: Wasn’t aware we were in one.
His text came back almost immediately.
Killian: Guess I have to convince you again. It’s fine really, I enjoy reminding you.
Callie was cleaning up her station, and Natty was finally getting wrapped.
Killian: You want an official request, or will you just accept wearing my name on your back?
He had no idea. I heaved a sigh.
Me: So I have to be called an old lady then?
Killian: You do. You ready for that?
I didn’t even have to think about it.
Me: I’ve been ready.
His texting stopped after that, but it still left me with a steady warmth cradling my heart, and something I thought I’d lost began to form.
Hope for a future here, to belong somewhere. To belong to him.
Perhaps this time it would actually last.
Something sinister whispered in the back of my mind, don’t bet on it.
TWENTY-TWO
LAURA
THREE MONTHS AGO
I was standing on a bus platform, watching as people loaded up their bags and suitcases into the undercarriage of the greyhound. Killian had loaded my things without me even asking. Which was fine.
I wasn’t going to pretend like the night prior hadn’t happened, and by the looks he continued to give me, perhaps he wouldn’t either. The way he’d hesitate before saying he just wanted a chance to fuck me before I left…there was something broken in me because why did I want to call his bluff? That desire right there was why I needed to go. It was better this way. I was leaving before getting into some complicated and confusing relationship with this biker who seemed too angry and confused for his own good.
I knew about baggage, and Killian had a ton of it.
When Callie hugged me and said her goodbyes, Killian stepped up.
I was toe to toe with this giant of a man, this larger-than-life person who somehow got under my skin within a matter of days and was now going to be a stain on my memory, and maybe even my heart. He was staring at me like he was thinking the same thing. Like I’d dug too far into his chest, too soon, and without any permission. We didn’t go on a date. He hadn’t brought me flowers or told me I was beautiful.
He was mean and cold.
And different.
Still, when he handed me the tiny pebble, my heart thundered as swiftly as a racehorse gunning for the winning lap. He didn’t have to say anything. I understood the gesture from what he’d told me while we were playing Truth or Dare, but then he did open that gorgeous mouth, those too soft lips parted, and he laughed, pinning his forehead to mine.
“You nearly got me, Daisy. Had me tripping up, and just like my mom always said, it’s the smallest acts that can bring a person down. I’m giving you this as a reminder.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. The feeling that was growing in me, too big, too wide, as though Killian hadn’t handed me a tiny rock, but instead a piece of his heart.
“Reminder of what?” I left our foreheads trapped together, my breath coming in and out too quick.
